Unbeknown to her at the time, news of the unusual nature of both prisoners had filtered down through the dragon ranks, a tiny titbit of news really, given that World War Two was raging around them. It didn't quite reach the realm of the telepathic papers or the normal, everyday dragon in the street, but apart from that, it was pretty much out there. And so it was that Councillor Rosebloom was sitting in his luxurious office when his secretary brought him in a pile of paperwork, including news of the latest incarcerations. Normally not one to panic, break sweat, or do anything at breakneck speed, his demeanour changed in an instant on seeing the list. Shooting out of the door uncharacteristically fast, his shocked secretary only managed to catch, "I'm out for the rest of the day," from him, before he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.
It had been over two weeks, and she hadn't told them anything they didn't already know. Over the course of that time, she'd been busy trying to figure out why her hidden abilities wouldn't work. From what she could tell, the dragons had cast a mantra of some sort across the whole building, negating or subduing her talents. There were one or two spots on her daily walk to and from the interrogation room that felt a little different... like they might be weak points in the mantra, where she could almost feel her power ready to use just beneath the surface. But with strapping great guards marching either side of her, as well as in front and behind, there was simply no opportunity to test if that were truly the case. It could of course be a dragon trap, trying to catch her out, waiting to see if she used the powers they suspected she might have. It was turning into much more of a waiting game than she'd at first intended, through no fault of her own. She was, however, bored now, and wasn't particularly renowned for her patience, despite it being evident in nearly all her operations in France. As the guards returned her to her cell from yet another round of interrogations, her mind whirled around and around, constantly looking for a way out. Any way out.
Little did she know that her way out was heading straight towards her.
A confident looking being pulled up at the little known entrance to the secret detention facility, covered in a dark cowl and cloak. At first, the guards had been reluctant to let him anywhere near the establishment, but he did have all the high level credentials and clearances, so in the end they had little option but to comply. Looking on in disbelief as the stranger marched through the dimly lit corridors, dressed all in black, looking very much how you would expect a Darth Vader from the 1940's to look, the guards were more than a little on edge.
Striding towards the prisoner's cell, projecting more confidence than he had any right to, he felt more than a little nervous about what he was doing. But he'd been given very little choice in the matter. Up until now, his involvement had been strictly behind the scenes, so much so that there was practically no chance of anyone finding out about his relationship to... the others. That's how he liked to think of them... 'the others'. Here and now though, things had got very real, very quickly. If any other dragon happened to turn up, this would all be pretty much for nothing. His escorts turned a corner, and BAM! It happened. No gradual fading off, no warning, NOTHING! Shocked didn't begin to cover how he felt. It was a good job his face was obscured for the most part. Briefly he wondered how she felt, in a place like this... without her abilities. It scared him, having his own taken away so forcefully. When he'd entered, he'd felt magnificent, in command and above these puny humans. But now... he felt so vulnerable, so afraid, so scared. Even so, he continued to walk on, the heels of his black boots clicking against the hard floor, projecting an air of confidence and authority.
A sharp turn in the corridor and then they were there, almost up against the bars. Lying curled up on the rickety bed, facing the opposite wall, he could tell she wasn't asleep.
"Release her at once," he commanded, with much more conviction than he felt. Straight away she rolled over, eyeing the stranger and the guards with suspicion.
"It's okay now. Your ordeal is over. Please come with me and we'll sort out your release."
Earth leapt to her feet, standing directly in the middle of the cell, eyeing the guards with contempt. With one finger, the hooded stranger discreetly pulled back part of his cowl, revealing only a tiny fragment of his face. Recognition blossomed in her mind. They'd only met once in their human forms, and even then it was mightily dark, but she knew who he was and that she could trust him. A wave of relief washed over her as she received a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement.
Once the guards had finally unlocked the cell, looking none too happy about it, she followed him back through the facility, sharing a small smirk with him at the point they both regained their powers. After only a few minutes, all the formalities had been observed and the paperwork signed off. They then both climbed into his 'borrowed' jeep. Joining him in letting out a sigh of relief, she whispered a small,
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," replied Rosebloom. "But let's get as far away from here as possible. I have no idea how long the ruse will hold up. We could be discovered at any moment." She nodded her agreement as he started up the engine. Turning on the lights, they sped away towards the main road, but not before he'd given her an inkling of what lay ahead for the rest of the night.
"If we can remain undiscovered until morning, then we might just have a chance."
And they did. Remain undiscovered, that is, recovering her husband from a neighbouring concern some ninety or so miles away before the first rays of sunshine lit up the early morning sky across the country. No words were said; there was nothing to say. They were very much in love, a notion the dragon councillor clearly found... distasteful, much to Earth's amusement. Dropping them off outside the deserted railway station, he watched them leap out of the stolen jeep, hand in hand. Thanking him politely, it was all just a bit too formal, almost as if he'd passed the salt across the dining table. They realised just what he'd done, how much he'd risked, but there seemed few, if any other words to say. A whole lot remained left unsaid as they sat outside the ticket office, clutching the thick wad of money the kind councillor had left them with. She wondered what they would plan. Would they go back to France and continue where they'd left off, being a sharp thorn in the side of the British and French Resistance? Or was there something more devious and cunning, or more pressing, to do? Sensibly though, she knew not to dwell on it now, and probably shouldn't even be wondering. With the strange looking councillor having exited the station's car park at speed in what she knew to be a stolen jeep, and knowing that they were many hours away from the first train of the day turning up, they both huddled together, sharing the warmth and comfort of their bodies as well as each and every thought, on the cold wooden bench just outside the ticket office.